"There could not be a fitter," I said sympathetically.
"I thank you for your appreciation," he replied.
"Yes," I reflected aloud, "unless it be at small-swords or in fair fight with any weapon, you should make a fair executioner. 'Twas an excellent butcher was spoiled in the modeling of you."
But de Veulle refused to be annoyed.
"Keep up your spirits by all means," he said—and in sober truth, I talked as much for that as to plague my enemies. "You will need them anon. I have instructed the savages to give you the long torment. You will be still alive this time tomorrow. Think of it! Your Iroquois friend knows what that means—an eyeless, bloody wreck of a man, begging to be slain! Ah, well, you would blunder in my way."
"I thought it was Murray's way," I answered.
"'Tis all one. And after all, as you must know, Murray is no more than a pawn in our plans."
"He would enjoy hearing you say so."
"He never will—and you will not be able to tell him when next you see, or rather, hear him."
He beckoned to the Cahnuaga chief.